


Take Me Back to the Night We Met

by VastDelusion



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Baz is having none of it, Baz’s floral suits, Book 2: Wayward Son, Couch Cuddles, Depression, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Not Wayward Son Compliant, Simon’s wings, Spoilers for Book 2: Wayward Son, simon doesn’t know how to talk about feelings, the break-up scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2021-01-02 22:30:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21168926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VastDelusion/pseuds/VastDelusion
Summary: In which Simon is convinced that Baz fell in love with the person he used to be and that he deserves someone better.And Baz is having none of it.





	Take Me Back to the Night We Met

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Simon Snow fanfiction. I hoped I kind of got their characters right.

At times, it seemed that Simon was watching his life through a window, his eyes following the world flying past him in vibrant, flashing blurs. He watched magic, and indulged in how it smelled. He missed the tingle of his skin when he cast his own spells, the practiced words sliding off his tongue with ease. While most of the time his spells weren’t as effective as Penelope’s or Baz’s, they were his own. He knew that magic made him, that his identity as “the Worst Chosen One to Have Ever Been Chosen” (title courtesy of Baz) decided his every action and decision. Without it, he would be nothing but an ordinary teenager, an orphan that didn’t belong anywhere and had no hope for a happy life. 

But he lost it all--his magic, The Mage, Ebb, Agatha, Watford, and his purpose--and he was afraid he was going to lose Baz, too. 

Not only did he feel he was watching his life through tempered glass, he was also watching his love life fading and crumbling away. He knew that Baz didn’t fall for the washed up hero who already saved the day. He fell for the hero, the one who always looked for the solution and always somehow found a way to save the day. He wasn’t that person anymore. Simon’s purpose had been fulfilled. His life was no longer adventurous. No more fighting, no more rescuing. In fact, he hadn’t touched Baz in months. He wasn’t sure if Baz still wanted him to touch him. 

After all they’d been through, Simon knew he wouldn’t be strong enough to withstand their final good-bye if Baz decided he was done with him. He was too beautiful, too surreal to imagine that he stayed with him in this state for as long as he did. 

So Simon made his decision. 

He was going to break up with Baz before the vampire had a chance. 

After all, he had gone through enough pain. What was a little more heartbreak? 

Simon turned onto his back, the couch cushions rustling beneath him as he tried to rest his wings in a comfortable position, and stared at the picture of Baz and him that sat on the shelf. He was smiling (when was the last time he’d seen Baz so happy? It had been too long.). His lips were curled into a wide smile, not a hint of malice or plotting on his face. 

Simon gave a despondent sigh. What would be more painful? Staying with Baz and watching him be miserable, or breaking it off with him and watching him fall in love and be happy with someone else? His heart ached and his throat felt dry at the thought. He felt selfish. Baz deserved to be happy with someone who was brave, daring, attractive, and able to get off the goddamn couch. 

Baz didn’t deserve that, to constantly be reminded that his boyfriend was no longer capable of making him feel fulfilled. To make his chest feel tight whenever he was around, to give him the warmth and love he desired. 

Baz needed someone who was… well, not Simon Snow. 

The door opened suddenly, and Simon looked up at the dark-haired man who had disturbed his miserable thoughts. 

“Snow,” he greeted as he entered. His tone was surprisingly light-hearted, as if his useless wreck of a boyfriend wasn’t the most pathetic person in his life. 

Simon gave him a small attempt at a smile. How could he break it off with him? Remaining friends wasn’t an option--he knew that already. Baz would have to exit his life completely. Simon’s life would lack color even less than it did now (neglecting the vibrance of Baz’s expensive-as-hell floral suits that he was certain were innate to the entire vampire species). 

He sighed, looked up into Baz’ stone-cold, grey eyes, and felt the apprehension consume him. He loved him so much. Baz had become his lifeline. Now, he had to cut the thread. 

“Baz…” 

Baz gazed curiously over at his boyfriend. He hadn’t looked at him in awhile. He wanted to tangle his fingers helplessly in his bronze hair and lie with him, feeling his warmth flow through him. To feel his warm, golden skin press against his, his hands tracing the dips of his ribcage. If he could, he would remain with him, pressing gentle kisses to his cheekbones and telling him everything would be all right. 

Just to think that just a few months ago, he had to practically tear his lips away from his just to complete simple tasks. 

“Yes?” 

Simon sighed again. This is where it all ended, in his sad little apartment, where he lay hopeless on the couch, wondering how his life would continue if Baz still was helplessly in love with him and willing to conquer the world with him. The What-Ifs list was growing too long, Simon thought. It was time to let him go. 

“I love you, you know that?” Baz asked, his dark hair falling into his eyes. It was as if he was reading his thoughts. 

Simon’s azure eyes held confusion as Baz wrung his hands together, almost nervously. 

“I… I just wanted you to remember that. It just seems that you’ve forgotten that I would follow you everywhere. You’ve been through hell, and I was with you every step of the way, as much as I was able to.” 

Simon’s gaze averted to the floor, which was littered with empty crisp bags and dirty socks. 

“Why… Why are you even with me?” 

Baz looked surprised by his words. 

“I mean, you fell in love with Hero me, the Chosen One, who stopped at nearly nothing to ensure his victory. That’s not me, anymore. I’m not galavanting around Watford anymore. At the end of the day, I’m not the one saving the magical world. I’m just on the couch, doing nothing but drowning in my own self-pity. I’m not the person you fell in love with. What’s the point anymore, Baz?” 

Baz looked down at his hands, clasped together and hanging in the space between his knees. He shook his head, his grey eyes troubled. 

“I fell in love with Simon Snow,” he said, his voice hardened and unwavering. “I am in love with Simon Snow, no matter what form he is in.” 

Simon shook his head, his bronze curls along with it, cynically. “Don’t tell me that you don’t think I’m a pathetic excuse for a boyfriend. All I do is weigh you and Penny down. If it weren’t for me, Penny would be in America, with Micah. They’d be married by now, if it weren’t for me, and she would be happy. You would be happy, too.” 

Baz looked hurt, but he hid it well. His heart ached. Snow had been broken completely, forced into the debilitating position of being the glorious chosen one, on his shoulders the fate of the world from the beginning. 

Baz loved him through all of it. His title meant nothing. The long nights haunted by the thoughts of him, how the moonlight luminated his skin and hair through the window panes as he slept peacefully, snoring slightly. He loved him no matter what, and he wasn’t going to stop loving him now, of all times, when Simon needed him and Bunce the most. 

He stood from the chair and strode over to the couch. Simon peered at him with curious eyes. 

“Baz, what…?” 

Baz sat on the cushion that cradled his torso and stretched his long legs over to lie beside his. His hipbone brushed against an expanse of golden skin, visible due to his shirt riding up to the top of his pelvis. 

The vampire laid his head on his bicep, his forehead brushing Simon’s jawbone. His cold fingers traced his side, wandering up past the hem of his shirt and feeling the warm skin that lay beneath it. 

“Don’t even think of leaving me, Snow,” Baz told him. “You’re so self-centered, thinking that you’re going through this all on your own.” 

Simon felt like he was going to cry. He suppressed it as much as he could before his throat tightened and a warm tear raced through the moles on his cheek. Baz felt his chest racked with sobs as he held his boyfriend closer. 

“You are my light, Simon,” Baz told him softly, curling into Simon’s large wing. “Even when you’re glowing dimly, you are still beautiful. As we grow older, our purposes in life change. You weren’t born to only have one purpose, Snow. There are much more important things you will do in your life. You just haven’t found your next purpose. In my eyes, in Bunce’s eyes, you have a purpose. I love you, Snow. She loves you.” 

Simon sniffled and held him closer. 

“You’re wrong when you say we’d be better off without you,” Baz continued. “Without you, it would be hard to imagine what kind of person I would be. I spent so long wishing you’d love me back, and I’m not about to let you be idiotic and let it all go.” 

Baz kissed his collarbone. 

Simon exhaled tremulously, caressing the silvery, smooth skin on the underside of Baz’s arm with a trembling hand. 

Long, elegant fingers wiped the tears from his eyes, and Baz’ stony eyes looked into his own. 

How would it be if it was just him and Baz in the world? No worries, no regrets, no pity. He gazed down at Baz’s sharp features, his gorgeous eyes, his crooked nose from the time he broke it during their shared time at Watford. Baz offered a small smile to him. Simon hugged him closer. If he was never destined for a happily ever after, lying here with Baz was the closest he could reach. 

“I love you, Baz. More than anything I can think of.” 

Baz gave a small snort as a response. A comfortable silence settled gently around the two of them, the only sounds daring to break it being the rustling of the couch cushions beneath them and their soft breathing. 

Baz smirked into Simon’s golden skin, kissing a dark mole like it was a target. 

“I love you too, Snow.”


End file.
